


Smile

by LearnedFoot



Series: Peter/Tony Ficlets and Drabbles [19]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Guilt, M/M, Resurrected Tony Stark, Tony Stark Tries to Be Good, Underage Flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:06:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22704436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LearnedFoot/pseuds/LearnedFoot
Summary: It starts with a smile.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Series: Peter/Tony Ficlets and Drabbles [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1419445
Comments: 24
Kudos: 303
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	Smile

**Author's Note:**

> A treat for you. Happy ChocoBox!

It starts with a smile, no different from hundreds of other smiles Peter has given him, charmed and a little shy, even after months of working together, “internship” transformed into a real internship with lab time and everything.

No different, and yet entirely different, because this time something catches in Tony’s chest: a tug of want he recognizes and immediately denies. He knows that feeling, and that feeling does not belong pointed at Peter Parker. Not from him. From that MJ girl he keeps rambling about? Sure, sounds good. But not Tony. He would melt that smile into a grimace by sheer force of disaster if he ever went near it.

(Besides, he’s engaged. So there’s that.)

He tucks the feeling away and refuses to look at it.

\--

The problem with feelings is they fight to be felt. This one keeps trying to unfurl, drawn to the warmth of Peter’s enthusiasm, the worship that never quite leaves his eyes, not even when he’s teasing Tony or arguing over whether his latest above-neighborhood-paygrade move was irresponsible. 

But Tony is Iron Man, and Iron Man knows how to fight back. He beats it down and doesn’t let it show. He’s engaged and happy and trying, really trying here, to do right by Peter. Keep him safe and alive and ready to take on the world when it’s time. When he’s older. 

( _When he’s older, maybe other things, too_ , a voice he doesn’t listen to suggests. No. He knows better. He’s going to be better. Peter deserves better.)

\--

Sometimes his hand lingers on Peter’s body, sliding from between his shoulder blades down to his lower back. Reassuring, appropriate.

And sometimes his fingers trail across the bare skin of his arm, or linger as he tucks in an errant tag, smooths a wrinkled shirt. Sometimes, when they’re both leaning over a project, shoulders pressed together, he turns his head, so close—

But he always turns away again. Because it’s nothing. There’s nothing to be close to.

\--

Here’s the problem: whenever his touch lingers, he’s met with that smile. He can deny himself a lot of things, but he can’t deny that smile. 

\--

And then Titan, and it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters, anymore.

\--

He still dreams about him, sometimes. A lot of the time. Nightmares, but also not. Dreams that ask: what if you’d been a little less good? What could you have had? If you’d leaned, closer, turned nothing into something—

He ignores the dreams, because the answer is always the same: in the end, all he has is dust.

\--

They undo disaster, and Tony dies, and that is that.

Until it’s not.

\--

He stumbles from nothing into the harsh cold of a high mountain, and suddenly everything is Peter: Peter’s arms wrapping him in a warm blanket, his voice choked with tears as he murmurs Tony’s name. Those eyes, still worshipful, even in a face that has gotten leaner, hair longer, shoulders wide.

Tony passes out, but as his mind blinks out, it has time for the thought, _I’m fucked_.

\--

Because Peter couldn’t leave well enough alone. The rest of the world moved on, but Peter kept fighting, until he found a way to rip a hole through reality and pull Tony back.

He’s nineteen now, Tony learns. Learns about his wife re-marrying, too. 

Two facts that make it better, but they don’t make it good. Peter is starting college in the fall. Late, because of time spent traveling the world, discovering how to bring Tony back. He doesn’t say what it took, but Tony sees the scars: bags that don’t leave his eyes no matter how much sleep he gets, tension in his shoulders that can’t be eased. Literal scars, too; scattered marks across his hands and forearms, whispered runes of a forgotten tongue.

He knows how Peter’s healing powers work. Whatever he did, it went deeper than physical. He put his life on hold for a year, gave part of himself, all to have Tony in the world again.

He wants to say: _I wasn’t worth it_. He tells himself: _See? Already hurting him, and I haven’t even touched him_. 

What he actually says is, “Thank you,” and Peter’s smile is wider than ever.

\--

It’s always that fucking smile, isn’t it?

\--

He doesn’t kiss him then, but he doesn’t last long, either.

Less than a week back on this planet, almost every moment spent in Peter’s presence, kid glued to his side in the new Avengers headquarters. That’s all it takes: one week, and another smile, over breakfast. Full of joy, as if Tony’s presence is worth celebrating, even when he’s doing something as mundane as pouring cereal.

He doesn’t deserve that smile, but he wants to taste it.

He circles the table, looming over Peter. The smile falters, then turns hungry, welcoming, and Tony is on him: pulling him to standing, one hand at his neck, another at his waist. He doesn’t say a word, just shoves their lips together, tongue flicking into the surprised O of Peter’s mouth. 

Peter returns the kiss, of course, melting into it, moaning, ready to take whatever Tony gives him. And: ready to give whatever Tony asks. 

Tony wants all of him. Peter would give, and he would take, and he can’t.

He breaks the kiss, heart pounding. “We can’t.”

“But…” The light on Peter’s face flickers, eyes shuttering, disappointed. “You started it.”

“And it was a mistake.” Tony is Iron Man: a bruised and battered version, but he can still fight this. He drops his arms and stands back. “Sorry.”

\--

The worst part is, Peter accepts it. Not gracefully, not quietly. He doesn’t slip sadly back into his seat, doesn’t melt or mope or whine. He stares Tony dead in the eye and says, “You’re an idiot, Mr. Stark.”

But then he accepts it. He doesn’t kiss Tony again: he walks away. Because he will take whatever Tony gives, even when it’s pain.

This is exactly why he can’t. They can’t. 

\--

Tony lasts ten minutes. He makes his breakfast, eats his breakfast. Cleans the bowl even, trying to be responsible.

Responsible. That’s laughable.

He finds Peter hiding in the otherwise empty gym, taking his frustration out with hard punches at a heavy bag.

“What did that thing ever do to you?” Tony jokes, lightness he doesn’t feel dancing across his words.

Peter spins, eyes blazing. Furious. 

“That wasn’t fair.”

He’s not wrong. None of this is fair. Maybe Tony hasn’t been fair since he first felt that twist in his chest, years and lifetimes ago. Because if what he did ten minutes ago isn’t fair, neither is what he’s about to do. Peter deserves better than him. He knows that. He’s known it. He was trying so hard to be better.

But years and lifetimes have taught him this: he can have Peter glaring at him, panting from wailing his feelings at a boxing bag, or he can touch him and see that smile.

And he’ll always pick that fucking smile.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, feedback is highly appreciated <3
> 
> Re-dated because it was anon for an exchange and now revealed. Sorry if you’ve seen it already!


End file.
